The Rules of the Palace

The heavy double doors of the grand hall shut behind the contestants with a deep thud, sealing them inside. The opulent chamber was lit by the glow of chandeliers, their crystal teardrops refracting golden light across the marble floor. Tension hung thick in the air as the young women stood in a perfect row before the royal family, their hands clasped in anticipation.

Evelyn Lancaster, standing toward the end of the line, resisted the urge to sigh. The weight of the moment pressed on everyone in the room, but unlike the other contestants, she felt no excitement—only the burden of expectation.

At the far end of the chamber, King Aldric sat in a throne of carved ebony, his presence dominating the room. His expression remained unreadable as he surveyed the assembled women. To his right, Queen Eleanor sat with effortless grace, her hands folded in her lap, her keen eyes assessing each contestant.

And then there was Prince Alexander, seated slightly forward, his posture relaxed despite the formal setting. His gaze flickered between the contestants, but his expression was neutral, almost detached.

The silence stretched, thick with unspoken thoughts. Then, King Aldric rose to his feet, the gold embellishments on his dark tunic gleaming under the chandelier's light. When he spoke, his voice carried effortlessly through the hall.

"You have all been brought here because you represent the finest families in the kingdom," he began. "But know this—titles and lineage alone will not make you worthy of the crown. This selection is not about the wealth of your house or the influence of your name."

A few contestants stiffened slightly at that, no doubt realizing that their noble birthright alone would not guarantee their success.

King Aldric continued, his gaze sweeping across them. "A future queen must be more than a decoration at my son's side. She must be intelligent, resilient, and capable of earning the respect of the people." He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. "This competition will test you in ways you have never been tested before."

The room remained silent.

Queen Eleanor was the next to speak, her voice softer but no less commanding. "Over the coming weeks, you will be expected to participate in a series of events designed to assess your abilities. Some will test your social graces, others your intellect and adaptability. You will be watched at all times, both in public and in private. Every action you take will be noted."

Murmurs spread through the group.

Evelyn, however, remained impassive. Watched at all times? The thought was unsettling, but it only solidified her desire to remain as unremarkable as possible. If she could avoid drawing attention, she could simply endure this process until she was eliminated.

Prince Alexander finally rose to his feet, clearing his throat. The murmurs faded as the contestants turned their attention to him.

"I understand that this may be overwhelming for some of you," he said, his voice smooth and measured. "You have left your homes and your families behind to come here, and for that, I offer my gratitude."

His words were polite, but Evelyn noticed that they lacked warmth. He was playing his part well—the charming prince, offering his appreciation—but there was no real attachment behind the words.

"I encourage you all to make the most of this opportunity," Alexander continued. "The coming days will reveal much about each of you, just as they will reveal much to me." His gaze drifted briefly over the contestants before settling back into neutrality.

Lady Beatrice stepped forward then, her crisp navy gown sweeping against the marble floor. "Now that you understand what is required of you, you will be escorted to your living quarters. There, you will find a set of rules that must be followed without exception."

Her sharp gaze met theirs. "Failure to adhere to these rules will result in immediate dismissal."

The weight of those words settled heavily over the group.

Evelyn kept her expression neutral, though inwardly, she wondered just how rigid these rules would be. Immediate dismissal? If only it were that easy. If she broke the rules intentionally, her family would know. Her father would know. And she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her fail on his terms.

Lady Beatrice gestured toward a set of double doors on the far side of the hall. "You are dismissed. Your attendants will escort you."

The tension in the room eased slightly as the contestants turned toward the exit. Evelyn fell into step behind them, keeping her pace steady, her thoughts already turning to the long weeks ahead.

The contestants were led through a series of grand hallways, their footsteps muffled against thick carpets. The palace's sheer size became even more apparent as they passed through elegantly decorated corridors, each one more lavish than the last.

Eventually, they reached a set of polished wooden doors that led to a large common area. The room was decorated with rich velvet furnishings, gold-framed paintings, and a massive chandelier hanging from the vaulted ceiling. Multiple doors lined the walls, each leading to private living quarters.

A maid stepped forward, holding a parchment. "Each of you has been assigned a room. Your name has been placed on the door."

The contestants dispersed, seeking out their rooms. Evelyn moved at a steady pace, scanning the doors until she found hers. Lady Evelyn Lancaster.

With a soft sigh, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The room was, unsurprisingly, exquisite. A four-poster bed draped in deep blue silk stood in the center, a vanity table sat against the far wall, and a private balcony overlooked the palace gardens. The scent of lavender lingered in the air, likely from the fresh flowers arranged in a crystal vase on the bedside table.

But Evelyn's gaze was drawn to the small desk near the window, where a neatly folded parchment lay.

She crossed the room and unfolded the paper, her eyes scanning the list of rules written in elegant script:

1. You must be present and punctual for all required events.

2. You are forbidden from wandering the palace without an escort.

3. You may not seek private audiences with the prince or royal family unless summoned.

4. Any attempt to manipulate or deceive will result in immediate dismissal.

5. You are expected to act with dignity and grace at all times.

The list continued, each rule reinforcing the rigid control of the competition. Evelyn let out a slow breath and placed the parchment back on the desk. It was all so calculated, so precise.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at her door.

She turned, expecting a maid, but when she opened it, she was met with a pair of cold, calculating eyes.

Lady Beatrice.

"Lady Evelyn," she said, her tone clipped. "A word."

Evelyn hesitated for only a second before stepping aside, allowing the woman to enter.

Lady Beatrice studied the room briefly before turning to face her. "You carry yourself differently than the others," she observed.

Evelyn didn't respond. She knew better than to react to statements meant to provoke.

Lady Beatrice continued, her expression unreadable. "Do not mistake this competition for a mere game. There are eyes on you, Lady Evelyn. And some of them belong to the king."

Evelyn's heartbeat faltered for just a second.

The king?

Before she could respond, Lady Beatrice turned toward the door. "Get some rest. Tomorrow, your true test begins."

With that, she exited, leaving Evelyn standing in the center of the lavish room, her mind racing.

The king had taken notice of her.

And that was the last thing she wanted.